Dangerous Talents by Frankie Robertson Read Free Book Online Page B

sky. Cele felt like they’d been walking for hours, but the eastern range looked no closer than it had when they’d set out this morning. In fact, as the sun rose, the mountains seemed to recede. She pulled one of her water bottles from its holder and took a long draw, then put it back without taking a second drink. No one had warned her to conserve. Sorn could see every time she drank and said nothing to caution her, so water must not be a problem. Just the same, maybe she’d hold off a little. After enduring nearly two days of thirst, feeling the weight of the remaining water on her hips gave her comfort.
    As she thought about water, Cele experienced the peculiar certainty again. Yes, there was water ahead, and Dahleven’s course led them toward it. She gave herself a mental shake. There was no way she could know that. Don’t flake out . She was in enough trouble without imagining things.
    The morning wore on and her blisters grew more painful. Cele started to think about raising the white flag and asking to rest, but she hated the thought of giving Dahleven the satisfaction. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but he clearly expected a lady to slow them down. She wouldn’t care so much if he hadn’t been such an ass about accepting her gratitude. Thanking him had been embarrassing enough without being called pointless. Cele gritted her teeth. She hated being dismissed.
    Dahleven raised his left arm over his head, then signaled in that direction. Cele noticed Falsom’s attention immediately rivet on him.
    “What’s happening?” Cele asked.
    Dahleven veered toward a spur of rock thrust outward from the hills.
    “He’s calling a break,” Fendrikanin answered, following Dahleven around a tumble of boulders that had long ago broken from the cliff. Sharp spikes of the Spanish dagger-like plant grew in every crack and joint between the stones.
    On the far side, Dahleven waited by a cleft at the base of a sheer rock face that rose thirty feet before breaking back to the ridge above. The two sides of a long crack had shifted, creating a cave that ran deep into cool darkness. As soon as she came close, Cele knew: There’s water here .
    Sorn stepped into the shade near the entrance and peered into the cave. “Nice and cool. This will be a good resting place.”
    Dahleven snorted a laugh. “I’m glad you approve.”
    Cele tried not to show her surprise at his unstuffy response. Instead, she sat and began removing her hiking boots and socks. The air on her hot, tired feet felt wonderful, and she wiggled and stretched her toes.
    The other men came around the spur of tumbled rock. Ghav came and knelt before her, shaking his head at her new collection of scrapes and bruises. “Those blisters must have pained you. You should have said something.” He rummaged through his pack. “I have a salve that will help.”
    “Thanks. They feel better already.” She was surprised to realize her statement was true. Just as it had last night, Ghav’s mere presence made her aches and twinges fade away.
    “Of course they do.” The Healer found what he was looking for. “Now, let’s tend to your hurts.”
    Fendrikanin stooped twenty feet to Cele’s left, kneeling by a cleft eroded into the hillside. When he straightened, his hands and beard were wet. “The water’s sweet, and there’s plenty of it.”
    Dahleven joined Fender, kneeling by the spring, and placing something Cele couldn’t see into the water. “Accept our gift in return for your bounty,” he murmured. He paused a moment, then rose and returned to the cave opening.
    What was that all about ?
    “Drink as much as you want, and refill your bags.” Dahleven directed his comment to the group in general and gestured toward the small rill. He turned to Fendrikanin. “Will we have water tonight?”
    The other man closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head. “It’s hard to tell this close to the spring, but I think we’ll have a dry camp